


Of Pyramids, Fountains and Near-Death Experiences

by Emily_Woods



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hale's Pack Road Trip, Idiots in Love, M/M, This is supposed to be funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 00:00:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15960362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_Woods/pseuds/Emily_Woods
Summary: The Pack is going on a Very Important road trip to Mexico, and Stiles has a broken leg, but he is definitely not letting this mild inconvenience stop him.





	Of Pyramids, Fountains and Near-Death Experiences

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a part of my Story Cubes Game, you can learn more about the idea here -  
> https://confidentweirdo.tumblr.com/post/175377858450/hey-guys
> 
> My usual disclaimer: no, I am not a native speaker. No beta has ever seen this "masterpiece". I can only imagine how many mistakes this story has but I swear to Merlin I did my best. If there are any errors that make you feel uncomfortable - I am very, very open to good criticism, so again feel free to message me. I made this just just for fun and never expected anything more. If you got through this paragraph and didn't close the tab by now, you are blessed to proceed to the actual work. But all those warnings still stand.

“You are not going!” Derek snapped, demonstrating his teeth.

“Oh, I am  _so_  going!” Styles snapped back.

Scott sighed, squeezed in between those two.

“Any help?” he asked the others.

Lydia, Peter and Erica looked at each other, nodded in total agreement and demonstratively opened three bags of popcorn, making themselves comfortable on the couch - experience of the last few days implied that those kinds of fights usually lasted at least for a few hours.

Scott hoped that Kira would be the one to help him out, but she was busy getting her toenails done by  _extremely_  concentrated Cora - everyone knew better than to interrupt that process.

Boyd and Isaac were the quiet ones; Scott looked at them, pleading for help, but those two were already making bets with overenthusiastic twins.

Malia was kind of busy with her homework and from the sounds she was making Scott deduced it was definitely math, which meant the only thing she was up to at the moment is separating someone’s head from its body.

Finally, Scott laid his eyes on Jackson, who was just scrolling through his social media. Making huge eyes, he nodded towards Stiles and Derek, who were still shouting at each other senselessly.

Jackson rolled his eyes, sighed theatrically, but said:

“Stilinski, for heaven’s sake, you have a broken leg! For once, just stay at home like a useless human-being and let the big guys… and girls,” he corrected himself quickly, shooting one glance towards Cora, whom for some unknown reason he feared to the point of absurdity, “handle the situation.”

Stiles frowned, “It’s a sprain.”

“I don’t care what it is, you still need either your walking stick or your not-really-boyfriend to move,” Jackson pointed out.

Derek smiled victoriously, glad that someone for once took his side.

“Shut up, Jackson,” only half-convincingly said Stiles, ignoring the certain part of the sentence he did not want to hear.

Scott breathed out. Jackson may be a bastard, but every tenth time he can actually be useful.

“Stiles, we’re going to Mexico,” Isaac pointed out, dealing the cards. “It’s not like you’re missing a trip to Disneyland.”

“Of course, it’s not!” Stiles shouted at his maximum lungs’ capacity and poked Liam with his cane. Stiles wouldn’t be Stiles unless he invented a way to torture people even if he couldn’t technically walk at the moment. “It’s so much cooler! You’re breaking into the center of the ancient pyramid to find an actual, real, one and only Fountain of Life! How can that even be compared to Disneyland?! Besides, we’re still going there on Isaac’s birthday, right?”

Stiles bit his tongue and immediately looked apologetic. Everyone in the room simultaneously groaned. That was supposed to be a surprise.

“Nice one, idiot,” Erica commented with her usual bitchy face.

“The point is,” Derek tried to outvoice the pack, “that you are not coming with us, Stiles. You’re just not and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Stiles only smiled in reply to that. Scott sighed again - unfortunately, he knew what it meant.

***

“If you drop me, I’m gonna bite your shoulder off,” Stiles warned Derek, while Hale was carrying him to the car, bridal style.

“You’re making me regret I didn’t chain you to the bathroom heater,” Derek smiled at him in reply. Anyone who has ever seen that grin could confirm that it gave them nightmares for months.

“Is that what love looks like?” Lydia asked in a loud whisper.

“I know my brother, he is smitten,” Cora shrugged.

“Well, in that case, I know Stiles,” Lydia insisted. “And yes, he’s into it, big time.”

“You do know that we can hear you, right?” Stiles shouted from the front seat.

(“Of course,  _he_  gets the front seat,” Isaac mumbled.

“You will too, sweetie. When you grow up,” Stiles promised him with a sugary smile. There were no further objections to that.)

“Yeah, that’s the whole point! Why would we talk about you when you can’t hear us?” said Lydia. She and Cora high fived each other.

 

It took them around three days to get to the destination point. They slept in motels twice, only for a few hours, to get to Mexico as soon as possible - most parents thought it was a short school trip and everyone needed it to stay that way.

Stiles was pretty quiet the whole trip - he borrowed at least a dozen books from Diton’s library and was constantly checking and then rechecking something. Derek tried to get a closer look on his notes, but the only thing he understood from a variety of different languages, symbols and ancient runes were the phases of the moon and a few pictures of the werewolves.

On the other hand, what did he expect? That Stiles was writing his English essay on the probably most dangerous road trip in his life? Derek snorted at that thought and let him be.

Stiles and him knew each other long enough to figure out other person’s likes and dislikes. For example, Stiles never put his legs on top of the glove compartment, even though Derek knew that it was his favorite position to ride in the car. He also didn’t seem to mind chatting all night long while Hale was driving, because he knew that otherwise Derek would start falling asleep. Betas often made fun of him for that, but Stiles would just always shush them and continue chattering enthusiastically.

On his part, Hale let him chose the music and fast food, made sure Stiles’ leg was always okay and in case it was obvious that he’s tired, they found a place to stay for the night. None of them spoke about those observations out loud, obviously. Mostly it was just glances, careful non-verbal remarks and silent support.

“We’ll be there in three hours,” Stiles noticed quietly, glancing at the GPS. He spoke very softly, trying not to wake the others up.

“Yeah,” Derek nodded. It’s not like he had a lot to say to that.

“Are you nervous?” Stiles asked, examining his face closely. Hale thought about it a little.

“Not really. Just worried a bit.”

“About what?”

“You, mostly,” he shrugged.

“Me?”

Derek chuckled when he heard a genuine surprise in Stile’s voice.

“Yes, you, Stiles. My pack knows how to protect themselves and each other. You, on the other hand…”

“…are completely useless and helpless,” Stilinski smiled brightly, but there was a hint of hurt in his eyes. “I know, I know, I got it, I’ve been told that only a few billion times.”

Derek smiled.

“I wouldn’t call you helpless, not in a million years. You are a man of many talents, Stiles. For example, you can always talk your opponent to death. I’m sure if I left you with some of our - preferably tied up - enemies, they will be begging for mercy in no time.”

“Shut up!” Stilinski punched Derek in the shoulder, but they both knew it was a pretend anger. In reality, Stiles was touched.

“You’re staying in the car, by the way,” Hale informed him calmly, mentally prepared for another fight.

“Yeah, sure.” Stiles nodded in agreement, examining his fingernails closely. He wasn’t even being sarcastic this time.

 _‘This is even worse than a wave of indignation_ ,’ Derek thought to himself and sighed.

“Okay, Stilinki, where’s the catch?”

“What catch? There is no catch! I’ll just stay in the car, like you told me to…”

Derek was sniffing furiously.

“…I mean, there are so many of you guys, you don’t need my help! I’m sure you can read Nahuatl* hieroglyphs, because you’ve studied everything about the various kinds of traps Aztec people preferred, and you definitely have a few tricks up your sleeve on how to deal with aconite and mountain ash traps, and, well, what can a few special pentagrams against non-humans do? Blow you to pieces? That’s just funny, you guys are much smarter and stronger than that. You’ll be just fine!”

Stiles delivered this whole monologue, still concentrating on his manicure. Derek miraculously suppressed the desire to strangle that little asshole.

“Oh, one last thing! You do remember everything Diton told us about the ritual of scooping water in the Fountain, right? One wrong move and the whole operation goes down the drain, ‘cos the liquid will lose its properties,” Stiles informed him happily, making himself more comfortable on the passenger seat.

“Fine!” Derek roared, tightening his grasp on the wheel. “You can come with us. But if you die, that’s your problem!”

Stiles performed a victorious dance, and Hale felt like he is going to regret this decision very soon.

***

“Very soon” came, when Stiles miscounted his analgetic pills. He figured that he’ll have to walk or even run with his cane more than usual in the next twelve hours, so the obvious decision was to increase the dosage. After that, the reality shattered into tiny pieces.

He knew he did not lose his conscience, not even once, which was good, because otherwise someone will have carried him around, like a dead weight. That was definitely the last thing Stiles wanted. But he did remember falling into this weird trance from time to time and emerging from it when he was really needed. Mostly, Stiles thought, the feeling resembled being very very drunk. Well, that, plus dizziness, weakness and ringing in the ears.

He remembered the entrance to the pyramids clearly. Remembered tons of riddles and traps they had to solve and neutralize, remembered warning others about possible snares every few steps of their way. At some point, there was a whole set of traps against the werewolves and Stiles - being the only human of the pack - was beaming with pride.

“I just can’t help wondering: what would you do without me here, huh?” he mumbled, while sweeping aconite from the floor and ruining the prefect circles and pentagrams. “ _Stay at home, Stiles,_  all of you said.  _We’ll manage this without you, Stiles,_ you said. Ha! I would definitely like to see you try.”

The pack was watching him frowningly, most of them pacing back and forth, waiting for Stilinski to finish.

“Look out!” Scott shouted suddenly. Stiles turned his head to the sound but had no time to duck. He just followed the arrow with his eyes, motionless. It was aiming straight into his right eye and all he could think of was “ _wow Aztecs were really precise people._ ” And then, when the arrow-head was only a few centimeters from his face, Stiles had been pushed away and saw all the events in slow motion: Derek pushing him and covering Stiles’ body with his own bare arm; the arrow tearing the flesh of Hale’s said arm apart, damaging veins and arteries, probably reaching the bones and crushing them too; Derek growling, but still standing after that, his blood dripping on his clothes and floor. “ _The stains would be hard to get out,_ ” Stiles thought melancholically. He wasn’t even really worried, because if the arrow-head had aconite in it, Derek would already be screaming with pain. Which meant it was just a regular arrow, and the werewolf regeneration is already taking care of that slight inconvenience. Stiles was just grateful that there was only one arrow in this trap, not five or ten.

“Stilinski!” Derek snarled at him, ripping the shaft of the arrow out of his arm. “Remind me to kill you later!”

Stiles shook his head, smiling at him with the warmest grin anyone saw that day.

“My hero,” he said with a chuckle, and then suddenly put his hand on Derek’s neck and pulled him into a kiss, being careful about Hale’s wounded arm. The kiss was slow, unhurried, very gentle and long-awaited.

The pack exchanged glances, but nobody said anything. Lydia shrugged when everyone stared at her, demanding an explanation, and Scott just smiled, looking at his best friend proudly.

Stiles broke the kiss and enthusiastically said:

“So, are we going to the Fountain or not?” and was the first one to start moving further into the next room.

The moment Stiles turned away from him, Derek’s face acquired a very smug smile. Cora couldn’t bare it anymore and immediately started laughing; that sound turned out to be very contagious and soon the whole pack followed her example.

“Oh, shut up!” Derek said, still beaming like a maniac. Stiles was way ahead of them now, checking up on some books of his.

After that Stiles didn’t remember much. Only the moment he was touching the Fountain (in his special gloves, because that thing’s magic was powerful as hell) and pouring the water into a few bottles for Diton’s closer examination.

***

The sun just started rising when they left the pyramids, exhausted. Obviously, they didn’t get much sleep that night, but it was still decided to pack and leave as soon as possible. After all, there is no sleep deprivation a good cup of coffee can’t cure.

Stiles was sitting on the grass near the car, sipping on his Starbucks and thinking that his life was pretty good at the moment. He survived the night in the pyramids, didn’t get lost, saved his friends’ lives a few times and got the magic substance they were looking for. Oh, and he didn’t get shot, thanks to Derek. Moreover, his painkillers were still kicking, just without any special effects now. Life was most definitely good.

“Hey!” said Scott, flopping down near him.

“Hey,” answered Stiles, enjoying the first morning sun rays on his face.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m… okay, dude. Why do you ask?”

“Do you… remember anything from last night?”

“Scottie, I was there, you know.”

McCall looked uncomfortable. Stiles smiled mischievously.  _“It totally wasn’t your idea to have this conversation, Scottie, was it?”_  he thought to himself.

“Okay, true, technically you were, but in your case, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“There were moments where I was completely conscious. And then there might have been a few where I… where I wasn’t,” Stiles offered. He also noticed that Derek was now definitely eavesdropping on their conversation. He was packing something in the car fifty feet away from them, but stopped now, listening carefully.

“Let me guess, kissing Hale happened during the unconscious faze?”

Stiles couldn’t really see Derek’s face from behind, but he noticed the strained muscles of his neck and back.

“Nope!” Stilinski said, much louder than it was necessary. “The most conscious decision of my life, Scottie.”

Derek’s posture immediately relaxed and it seemed like he was finally able to breathe. Stiles grinned broadly, watching him. He might not see Derek’s face, but he could practically feel Hale’s radiant smile from afar.

 

 

*Nahuatl - known historically as Aztec language (honestly Googled it, sorry if anything’s wrong here)


End file.
